


Wayward Spectrals

by Lace



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wayward Children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lace/pseuds/Lace
Summary: RICHARD SPENDER’S HOME FOR WAYWARD CHILDRENNO SOLICITATIONNO VISITORSNO QUESTS





	1. No need to pretend here.

A boy stood in front of his new boarding school as his family drove off. There had been hugs and agreements to write once a week which were bound to fall apart after a while. He was sure there would be nothing to write about. No use walking them through every step of his so called treatment. When the car disappeared from sight he turned and saw the sign.

RICHARD SPENDER’S HOME FOR WAYWARD CHILDREN  
NO SOLICITATION  
NO VISITORS  
NO QUESTS

The boy adjusted his backpack before grabbing his suitcase and rolling it behind him as he went into the estate. At the door was no bell to ring but a door knocker that looked out of place. He let go of the suitcase, not willing to set down the baseball bat he held in his other hand, and wrapped fingers around sun warmed metal. He held it for a moment, feeling the worn, sturdy and absolutely pure bronze of it before tapping it twice and trying the door knob. It was open, the heavy door seemed to push back as he pushed it open, and once he’d gotten himself and his things inside the door slammed shut behind him.

He looked around the bare foyer. Everything was hardwood. From the floor to the stairs to an cushionless bench. For a moment he he let himself think he’d crossed over to a different world. The door didn’t seem to fit the outside of the house and the inside looked strikingly less soft than the world he was sure he was just in. But then his eye caught on the plush rug on the base of the stairs, and the loose fabric hanging from the ceiling like hammocks no one could reach and held no more weight than the dust they collected.

As his gaze turned up he saw a man at the top of the stairs dressed oddly. Sunglasses indoors and a suit. But the suit jacket had a zipper, not buttons, and the trousers covered his feet. He was blond and skinny and looked young, not yet 30, and tired but invigorated. Like he had gotten no sleep in the last few days but didn’t mind because he’d been doing his favorite things.

The boy was just 15, wearing jeans with holes in them, a band T, a pair of Nike Dart 12s that were just too snug, and a worn out purple hat. All in all a better dresser than the man coming down the stairs to him. The man wore something Max wasn’t sure he himself could ever pull off though: a king, warm, genuine smile.

“Maxwell Puckett, right?” The voice dragged Max out of his thoughts.

Max tried to meet the man’s eyes but couldn’t with those sunglasses on, “Just Max.”

“Well Max it’s good to have you here. I’m Richard Spender. You can call me Mr. Richard, Mr. Rick, or Mr. Spender.” Mr. Spender said and held out a hand.

Max silently shook his hand and then Mr. Spender began leading him up the stairs.  
“Tell me Max. Where did you go?” Mr. Spender asked gently.

Max hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“Well we both know you weren’t kidnapped. Not by anyone on this planet at least. And that you didn’t run away. Your family was very insistent on that. That your situation had left you vulnerable, not distant. But you went somewhere. Or you were taken somewhere. Somewhere out of reality. What did you see?” Mr. Spender chose his words carefully as they walked slowly.

Max halted as they hit the top of the stairs. He’d been expecting people to keep telling him to stop lying or start trying to remember what had really happened. But not this man. Why not this man? Was he trying to cure him somehow with more information on what he thought Max believed?

Max put his guard up and looked away, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Mr. Spender sighed and removed his sunglasses, wincing as if the light in the room pained him, and looked Max in the eyes. His pupils were so dilated that Max couldn’t see a hint of his iris.“This isn’t a place for pretending everything’s okay Max. We all know it’s not. I went to a land of warring shadow and light. In the Palace of light I had to wear sunglasses not to be blinded. There the Royal Advisor, Lucifer but not like Satan or anything, had told me I would be helping defend their nation from the inky shadows threatening to consume them all. As I wasn’t made of light I could enter the darkness. I spent so long in those shadows that my eyes are permanently affixed to seeing in pitch black. Now even low light pains my eyes.”

Spender put his sunglasses back on and tried again for a smile, “So Max. Where did you go?”

This time when Max opened his mouth he said, “An endless scrapyard.” And the words were so honest he felt a little freer just saying them.

Spender nodded. “Please tell me more. What were the rules of this world if it had any? Did they ever change?”

“No they were always the same...you could eat iron. But only if it’s pure. That was because they didn’t have a lot of organic life. I don’t know. I guess all metals were magnetic and not just the ones that are here.” Max hadn’t been expecting someone to ask for the rules of that world. He had stories of course but he hadn’t been keeping track of every detail on how it differed from earth.

Spender nodded again and they continued walking. “I see. That’s quite interesting. Sounds like High Logic, that is a world where the rules are absolute and do not bend. I have a boy about your age with no roommate from a compatible world. Now this scrapyard. It sounds uncomfortable. Would a bed be too soft?”

Max’s eyes went wide. How had he known? He had been sleeping on the floor of his room since he got back. Everything in this world was too soft for him, from the beds and pillows and blankets to the carpeting and pliable woods. All of it far too sturdy under him. He’d grown far too used to sleeping on sheets of metal of unsteady platforms or in makeshift hammocks.

“Yeah actually. Do you have anything I can make a hammock out of?” Max asked. Best to be upfront about it if this place really does understand him. Has more like him.

“Of course! I’ll have you set up in a jiffy but dinner is soon and you should meet your roommate.” Spender pushed open a door that had a laminated sign on the outside with types of weather on it, circled currently was Partly Cloudy with a sun peeking out behind clouds.

Inside Max saw one half of the room bathed in sunlight coming through an open window. The curtains moved in slight breeze. That half had a load of DVDs and thick paperback colorful books. A ginger boy, maybe a year older than Max, in a shirt that said “CLOTHING” sat on the bed on that side, reading one of said books, and glared up at the intruders, though he looked annoyed rather than angry, then his eyes went wide with glee.

“He’s High Logic?” The boy didn’t take his eyes off max but the question was directed at Spender.

“Yes Isaac. This is Max and he is indeed High Logic. You have a roomie. Why don’t you help him set up his side of the room? Don’t focus too much on the bed. We’ll be moving it after dinner.” Spender said with a smile and left the two alone.

Isaac, the boy was called, hadn’t looked away from Max. When the door closed behind Spender he jumped off his bed and moved to grab Max’s suitcase and bat. Max moved the bat out of his reach and indignantly shoved the suitcase towards him.

“Don’t touch my bat.” Max said simply and moved to what would be his desk and unloaded his backpack on it. He was gripping the bat so tight that is knuckles were white.

“Gee sorry.” Isaac said and rolled his eyes and moves the suitcase to the dresser. “I didn’t know. Don’t get mad at me already. Sheesh.”

“Fine. But don’t touch it.” Max said and hoped the conversation would end there. It didn’t.

“Is it like. From your world? Spender told you we all went somewhere, right?” Isaac asked as he folded Max’s clothes and started putting them away.

Max’s voice caught in his throat and he looked at Isaac skeptically. “Do people bring things back a lot? Like did you bring anything back?”

“Hm? Well if someone’s been given a gift they’re likely to keep it coming back home. But mostly it’s just the clothes on your back. I did bring one thing but it’s an ability, not anything you can touch like that bat. So is it? From your world, I mean?” Isaac asked again, noting that Max hadn’t given an answer.

Max looked down at the bat and opened his mouth and said, “Yeah.”

And that was that. No growling or hissing or feedback. It didn’t care if Max told people where it came from. What else can he say now?

“Actually it wasn’t a bat back there though. It was a sword. A really dull sword but a sword.” Still nothing. Usually it would growl over the thought of wanting to tell the whole truth but now it seemed not to care. “It changes shape.”

Isaac looked at Max a bit curiously and nodded. “Cool. You kill anything with it?”

Max was prepared for the growling that still didn’t come. It wasn’t asleep, it didn’t sleep, and it was cognizant as ever, thrumming through him like a second heartbeat. Maybe the truth doesn’t matter on earth. “No. But I had pretended to.”

“Hey not cool man. If everyone wanted you to save them and you let it still run free what will happen now that you’re gone?” Isaac looked angry.

“Hey man. Chill. Nothing was harming anyone.There was a big scary snake and now it’s gone. I took care if it. We made a deal. I kept my end. It kept it’s. I’d know otherwise” Max wondered where Isaac had been that everything had been so black and white. He looked down at the bat again and found normalcy in the way it was so alive, coiled into this tight shape when it had once the size of a train. It was all true. He was keeping his end of the bargain.

Isaac squinted at him, not doubtingly, but appraisingly. “Weird. But okay. So like how would you know? Are your souls linked now? Or can you see through its eyes maybe?”

Max looked back up at Isaac and held his bat up. “This is how.” Best not get into details just yet incase this wasn’t allowed.

Isaac just nodded. “Cool. So no bed? Are you from one of those clockwork worlds? No cushions and stuff?”

“Kinda. It was actually a scrapyard. Nothing was stable there, ya know? Sometimes even the ground felt like it would give out beneath me. That was probably the wyrm actually, moving beneath our feet. So I asked for a hammock.” Max said carefully.

“Wyrm?” Isaac looked amused by the word. Like he knew it but it still came out of nowhere.

“Uh yeah? Giant serpent thing? It’s a thing. Not like a worm in the ground.” Max said kind of annoyed by whatever Isaac was implying.

Isaac laughed. “Well I knew that but it wasn’t something I thought you’d say. I mean you called it a snake so I figured that’s what everyone called it there.”

Max rolled his eyes so hard they almost went to the back of his head. “It was called a dragon actually. But it had no limbs, no wings, like a snake. And huge. The only dragon like that is a wyrm. Not hard to put together.”

“It sounds cool. Are you happy you didn’t kill it?” Isaac asked sounding a bit vacant.

“Honestly? No. I think sparing it is why I’m...back. I think that was the condition I signed up for. I didn’t...I didn’t know it though. It couldn’t speak. But I know that if I had tried to fight it I would lose. I’d die. I wasn’t even armed. I think I made the right choice. But I sometimes wish I had kept running instead.” It wasn’t the wyrm in his bat chiding Max for the truth now, just himself. These were words he wasn’t able to say before.

Isaac looked disappointed. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t wanna squash your hopes but usually when someone is...well kicked out or exiled or something like that they usually don’t-can’t return. I mean I don’t know the specifics so maybe that doesn’t actually affect you.”

“Were you kicked out?” Max asked because it sounded like Isaac was familiar with this.

“Oh yeah. But I had a condition to my exile. I’d be let back into the King’s court if I were loyal enough. It’s been a year now so I think my loyalty is about to get tested.” Isaac sounded a little nervous. But not like he didn’t want to go back. Well he’d pushed this far. Max’s turn.

“You scared it won’t let you back?” Max asked as he plopped into the desk chair.

“No. I think I can go back. I would die for that kingdom.” Isaac said, getting a far away look in his eye as he stopped folding and looked at Max. Or past him rather.

“But?” Max prompted.

Isaac snapped back to reality, jarringly. “But. I don’t know what I’ll do when facing the king. I’m a pacifist. If I fight him he wins even if he loses. But if I don’t then he’ll keep ruling and treating his people so poorly. And I know I have to fight him. I’ve had to fight a few times but only in self defence. And I’ve never killed. I don’t want to kill him. The door appeared for me. The land is wicked. It takes those to tempt. I wasn’t tempted. That’s why I could go back. But if I kill him then I am wicked. I’m soiled. If a revolt happens and I’m thrown back out I won’t be able to return.”

Yikes. Way to overshare, roomie.

Spender’s voice echoes through the halls, “Dinner time!”

Max was saved by the bell.


	2. An Iron Rich Dinner

As Isaac and Max left their room Spender stood outside their door. “I hope you two are getting along.”

“Oh peachy. If Isaac here is the norm I might be the least traumatized here.” Max said half heartedly and Isaac rolled his eyes in response.

“Whatever.” Was all Isaac said as he stormed down the stairs. Max wasn’t sure why the thought of him storming sounded so apt. Maybe the sign on his door. 

Max looked to Spender. “He knew I was joking, right?”

Spender shook his head and started walking downstairs, motioning for Max to follow. “It’s more usual for those of High Logic to say what they mean.”

“Well boy do I diverge from that.” Max said as he trailed after Spender.

“That’s fine. Tell him so at dinner.” Spender said simply as he entered buffet style cafeteria with enough seating for over twice as many students that were actually there. 

Spender puts a hand on Max’s shoulder and speaks to the room, the buzzing of conversations stop and all eyes are on them. “Good evening everyone! We have a new student joining us today. Please be as gentle with him as we all are when you were new. Oh and do eat. We are in a world where it is a necessity.”

And with that Spender moves away from Max to sit next to a woman in a lab coat, nightgown, and a hijab. The adult table.

Max scanned the room and noticed how few boys there were. Aside from himself he could only see four. Isaac and a blond boy were sitting with a black haired girl. And a boy with an obnoxious red dye job filling his tray. Max grabbed a tray of his own and grabbed spinach, lean beef, and a bit of dark chocolate. He was automatically drawn to the foods most rich in iron. He’d spent so long living off the stuff he might throw off a compass if his bat didn’t.

He places his tray next to Isaac’s. “Sorry for earlier. Apparently it’s not the most common thing to joke if your logicor whatever but it’s kinda my shtick.” He sat down and Isaac’s face, which had been burning red in anger or embarrassment paled again. Good start.  
The other two at the table, a blond boy who wore a paint splattered T-shirt and overalls, and a darker skinned girl with black hair who wore a wrinkled red shirt and cuffed jeans.

The blond boy grinned at Max. “So you’re the Max? The new kid that got Isaac all ruffled. Logic, huh? Doesn’t that get boring? You never get to mix it up. Right is never left and polkadots are never stripes in disguise.”

Max just stared at the boy across from him before the girl spoke up. “That’s Ed Burger. I’m Isabel Guerra. We’re both from High Nonsense. Like Alice in Wonderland type of deal while Logic is more Golden Compass. Sure there’s magic in both but in The Golden Compass there’s consistency that isn’t there in Wonderland.”

Max still didn’t quite understand but nodded. “Right. Well I’m from a scrapyard and the most magic things there was edible metal and a snake dragon wrapped in scrap armor.”

“See? Like I said. Boring.” Ed exclaimed and mixed his mashed potatoes with jam instead of gravy before pouring gravy on his scones.

“He has a story just like all of us.” Isabel shrugged and continued to look interested at Max.  
Just then a the red haired kid Max saw before dropped his tray of all the most charred bits of the foods next to Max’s and took Max’s purple hat to wear on his own head. “Well Well Well Well Well. A New Kid.”

Max turned to look at him and made a move to grab his hat, the redhead let him. “Weird way to say hello.”

The boy wore a leather jacket despite the warm weather and mild AC. Just looking at him made Max feel warm. He had sometimes wished he’d taken something thicker like that to his own world. Slipping meant bleeding in light clothing. But light clothing had given him more flexibility and that in itself was worth it.

The redhead turned a pointy toothed smile to Max as he slid into the seat next to him. “Ha! Weirds all we have here! Normal was left at the doors. Why? Do you WANT normal, New Kid?” It was only now that he’d spoken more that Max noted an accent. New York or Boston or something, he wasn’t sure, but he pronounced Normal like Naw-mal and his The sounded suspiciously close to Da.

Max rolled his eyes and put his hat back on. “My name is Max.” 

“Johnny.” Johnny slung an arm around Max in a manner both friendly and something like threatening. “So Maxy-”

“Just Max.”

“High Wicked or High Virtue?” Johnny asked and stabbed a bit of charred meat on his plate.

That was new. He was starting to understand Logic and Nonsense but Wicked and Virtue? Granted Isaac had said something about his world being Wicked and trying to taint him. He wasn’t sure where his world landed there. 

Max scrunched up his nose and asked, “How would I know?”

Johnny waves his fork with the meat chunk in an Oh you know type gesture. 

Max did not know. So all he said was “High Logic?”

Johnny barked a laugh. “Wow how fresh off the boat are ya?”

Max rolled his eyes. “Half hour give or take.”

Johnny reaches for Max’s hat again but his hand is met with the cold titanium of his bat now held between hand and hat. Johnny’s eyes light up. “No way that was made on earth. Is it-”

Max realized his mistake instantly and pulled the bat out from between them, placing it in the hand on Isaac’s side. He already knew the no touching rule. The twinkle in Johnny’s eye was replaced by an almost pouting look as he removed his arm from Max.

Max looked mildly annoyed but on the inside he was trying to rationalize what happened. His little sister, Zoey, had grabbed the bat once. Before Max screamed at her to get out of his room that is. She didn’t mention anything about it feeling alive or moving or anything. But these people knew things beyond this world. He had no guarantee that what Johnny was commenting on wasn’t the Scrapdragon. In fact he was almost sure it was.

He looked at Johnny again who was clearing his plate, then to Isabel who was dipping toast in the juices of her half eaten meat. She caught his gaze and shrugged. “Johnny went to a documented world. The Forging World. He learned smithing from the head honcho. If he says it’s not earthly I believe him.”

Max kept his sigh of release inside. “Right.”

“Hey Johnny! Bet you’d like Max’s world. All scrap metal he says! Imagine all the things you could make!” Ed said around a mouthful of food.

The look in Jonny’s eye was back again and Max’s grip on the bat tightened. “That where ya got it?”

Max gritted his teeth and nodded once before he started shovelling food into his mouth to avoid an in depth conversation on it.

Dinner continues with Ed and Johnny having short bursts of conversations sometimes ending in threats to Ed’s lunch money but usually with them making faces at each other. On the opposite side Isaac and Isabel chatted aimlessly about whether water was or was not wet. Max wasn’t sure who was arguing which point, too busy trying to figure out how he’s going to write even a single letter home without mentioning any of this.

As dinner ended and they were cleaning up Max hadn’t heard his name being called until Isabel’s fingers were snapping in front of his eyes. He noticed Johnny and Ed were already gone. “Max! Hey look I know this a lot to take in. We all know. You miss home. But not the home with your family. You miss the home that felt tailored to you. That this place feels wrong, not the scrapyard. It starts to hurt less after a while. Therapy will help. It’s in two hours.”

Max just nodded, absently. Isabel looked sympathetic as she smiled and finished cleaning. 

Max and Isaac finish cleaning and Max can tell Isaac was going slow for him. It was annoying but he didn’t say anything. 

The two left in silence and arrived at their room to see Spender carrying a purple nylon sack that contained a camping hammock as depicted on the picture instructions on the outside. He handed it to Max and entered the room.

“Isaac and I will move the bed out. You can figure out how to set that up.” He said as him and Isaac took the mattress out.

Over an hour later the bed was gone, the desk moved to it’s empty space, and a purple hammock hanging in the hanging kitty corner where the desk was next to the window. Max lounged in it, bat on his chest. If he closed his eyes he could imagine he’s set this up in a new area, but the illusion didn’t last. This place didn’t smell like rust but of clean, fresh air wafting in from both his and Isaac’s windows.


	3. Group Therapy and Orientation

Isaac showed Max to a room with chairs all lined up in a big circle. The room was unremarkable the same way a pen being navy blue was unremarkable. Forgettable.

 

Max took a seat next to Isaac and spotted Ed and Isabel on the other side, and Johnny sitting next to the Hijabi woman he saw at dinner. She was standing upright with a clipboard. The whites of her eyes are orange and her irises were black. She wore a pristine lab coat over a purple and white vertical stripe nightgown that touched the floor. Max got the impression she wore slippers but couldn’t see.

 

Soon all the seats were filled the woman sat down as well. “I thank you all for coming to our thursday night group therapy session. We will be speaking with the High Wicked visitors tonight but as always anyone is welcome to share.” She turned her gaze to Max. “For those who are new: My name is Dr. Mina Zarei. I am fully licensed therapist with a degree child psychology.”

 

Max just nodded. He didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t the place for asking question. This was for therapy. So he’d stay quiet for now. 

 

“Now then. Who would like to speak first?” Dr. Zarei looked around the room.

 

They talked and talked, taking turns all the while.

 

Isaac spoke and Max listened. He talked about how he became the champion and friend to a kind hearted deer woman who’d sent him questing for scepters that would release her people, who apparently had been trapped to look like ghost dolls.

 

Johnny spoke too and Max may have attempted to tune him out but couldn’t. He talked about how he and his gang would slay the beasts trying to snuff out the fires of creation. For a moment he sounded excited, careless, until he got quiet and admitted he missed his friends.

 

After everyone who was going to share did they all turned and looked at Max. 

 

“I don’t know if it was wicked.” Max admitted. “I mean it looked like something out of an apocalypse movie. Mountains of scrap metal. A giant snake like armored dragon. But I loved it.” Max was proud his voice did not break. 

 

“I loved every second of it. I loved parkouring around on the scrap, climbing and jumping, finding my way to the tallest point long enough to find a new tallest point. It was exciting. I loved the natives. There was a little boy named PJ and his caretaker Lefty. There were Sam and Doghouse. They showed me the ropes. Kept me alive long enough for me to confront the Scrapdragon. And even the Scrapdragon. It was amazing. Big as a freight train. It could have killed me. But we made a deal. I had its sword, its power. It…” Max shook his head. Even if it didn’t mind the truth here Max wasn’t sure admitting he brought a dragon to earth was a smart idea.

 

Dr. Zarei nodded. “Thank you everyone who shared. I will see you Mr. Puckett tomorrow morning for orientation. And the rest of you tomorrow evening when we speak to those who visited a High Nonsense world.” And with that she stood and Spender entered.

 

“Alright everyone time for bed. While we’re all in this world we ought to act like it and sleep when it’s time here.” Spender announced as everyone began to file out.

 

Max followed Isaac. Isabel and Ed were with them the whole way. 

 

When they started walking down the same hall Max decided they must be Isaac’s neighbors. And so it was because they entered the room next door.

 

“So this place is coed living?” Max asked as he closed the door to the shared room behind him.

 

Isaac teetered his hand. “Not really but no one minds. Isabel is actually assigned across the hall but she spends 80% of nights with Ed. If you had been High Nonsense you would have been roomed with Ed and he would have been in and out of bouts of being upset for a week before deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble.”

 

“Is every place Nonsense or Logic?” Max asked feeling tired with the words.

 

“Yeah but it’s not always the strongest alignment. Like not one everyone associates with their world. Not every place is Virtue or Wicked though. Isabel’s wasn’t. It was Linearity. Can you even imagine? A world of nonsense being linear. Those are what are called minor directions.” Isaac explained and Max was trying to make space in his brain for the information.

 

Max grabs a clean pair of boxers and a loose shirt and changes before crawling into his hammock. He tucks his bat next to him as he tries to pretend he’s home and that PJ will wake him up asking to hold his sword again.

  
  
  
  
  


In the morning Max woke up still in a boarding school with soft carpet and wood. He sighed as he rolled out of bed and saw that Isaac was already up and waiting to show him to the orientation room. Max got dressed and followed him to a small room with blackboards, several desks, and Dr. Zarei awaiting him. Isaac let them be.

 

Dr. Zarei went through the ideas of Nonsense and Logic well enough. Recapping that one has consistent rules while the other does not. Moving smoothly into Wickedness and Virtue she started using the blackboards. Describing that Wicked does not mean evil so much as disproportionate power. Reality is wicked she said. Virtuous lands are in general fairer. 

 

Then she got into the minor directions. Things like High Rhyme where there are patterns but not identical events. Spender’s world had been High Rhyme and not either Wicked or Virtue. His world Rhymed, repeated itself almost. High Wild worlds were less about how things got done as long as they did, closer to a sandbox game than a linear game. Max made a note that his world probably fell on somewhere Wild spectrum. High Linearity where things should be taken at face value and in general the opposite of Wild. Max hadn’t known Isabel long but hearing that her world was one with only one plot confused him. Something about High Whimsy where quests were completely optional and didn’t affect the world as a whole, more there just to fill time.

 

“Any questions?” Dr. Zarei asked.

 

“Yeah.” About a hundred. He started with the easiest. “Why are there so many more girls than boys?”

 

Dr. Zarei cleared her throat. “Well to put it simply. People notice when boys disappear more than girls. Boys are taught to be noisy and to draw attention where girls might not even be taught to be quiet but it’s the expectations adults have for them. When they are quiet, even if they are the noisiest of girls, they shrug it off.”

 

Wow man fuck society. It made sense in a disgusting way. His friend Damien wasn’t a loud boy but he was a mild troublemaker people started keeping an eye on unlike his equally troublemaking twin sister. Max wondered how long it took for his family to realize he wasn’t just off doing stunts and neglecting his work. His dad let him have space. He knew his son was a  “Scamp” and didn’t bother him for more than a few game nights and family pizza. 

“What was your world like?” Max asked carefully.

Dr. Zarei smiled for once. “It was a jungle of science. It was High Virtue and High Logic. Every science you could dream of all treated as purely equal. I spent five decades there and only aged five years. I had been 13 when I opened my school’s lab supply closet and found not beakers but thick trees and grass. And 18 when I had discovered how to move between worlds. Unfortunately the device was destroyed and the science used to make it doesn’t work here. So here I am.”

Max’s throat went dry as he asked the only important question, “How many of us have gone back?”

 

Dr. Zarei took off her glasses and sighed. “Everyone so far has asked the same question. We don’t really know. It’s impossible to keep track of everyone once they’ve left. I only know of 4. The odds were against you going in the first place. Those same odds are against you now, I’m afraid. I won’t tell you it’s impossible but I won’t give you false hope either.”

 

Max left the room with frustration and a once fresh notebook of 4 pages of notes and doodles. He had decided the only way to get back was to understand. So when it came time to pick an elective he chose “A Traveler’s History of the Great Compass” which had to be for this exactly this. He labeled his notebook accordingly and let out a breath. He overcame the odds once. He could do it again.


	4. FreeRunning Tag

Teachers from the town drove in to teach math and english. History was taught by Spender and biology was taught by Dr. Zarei. The classes were mostly dull but watching Spender fumble his way through trying to connect with everyone through video games or memes was definitely new. The drive in teachers made Max put his bat in his backpack and Max complied with only minor grumbling.

 

At lunch Max tried to answer questions from Isabel. She apparently wanted to write everyone’s story down and had only been gentler the day before because he was new. But apparently after orientation all restraint went out the window. She didn’t pry and just nodded when he said he didn’t know or didn’t want to say. Apparently because that’s all part of the story people tell and she wouldn’t tell a story she wasn’t told. Her words weren’t mile a minute and hard for him to keep up with. She was a bit crass sometimes but that was just how she talked. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Lunch flew by like that. 

 

Electives included Music, Art, and the one Max had chosen, A Traveler’s History of the Great Compass. He met a girl with black hair in a high spiral bun leaning to the left who went to a clockwork world that was High Logic and High Rhyme. His notebook grew heavier and the home printed textbooks helped shine some light on how some doors appear. Some are generational and tied to a family line. Others were completely random. It was all about the needing though. It was how each world decided who it would offer itself to. It didn’t matter what anyone wanted. Only needed. And on the occasions of going back it usually means you have completed something.

 

Dinner came and Max couldn’t get out of the building quick enough after he finished an entirely spinach meal. He bolted to the tallest tree he’d noticed from his window. It was no mountain of obstacles but it would do. He climbed it with such vigor he hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone until he was three quarters up and grabbed a branch that had a shoe on it. Isaac looked down at Max from where he stood on a branch, his hand extended up hitting sunlight.

 

Isaac’s blank expression faded as he gave a half smiled. “Wow. You found this tree quick. Tallest one on the grounds. Took me a few tries to get to the right one.” 

 

Max frowned. He moved his hand to another, lower branch over more, pulled himself up and stood so he wasn’t craning his neck to meet Isaac’s eyes. Sometimes it felt like people here just talk to hear themselves talk. Always forgetting context and just talking. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”

 

Isaac dropped into a sitting position on his branch, legs dangling, so he and Max were almost at the same height. “That’s because most kids crawl back to their rooms. But no one here is like that. We go running for the shadiest spot or the tightest thicket or the highest point. And that means we all spend very little time really alone.”

 

Max huffed. Well. It wasn’t like he did this sort of thing to be alone so much as for the rush of it. And the air was better up higher. Both in this reality and the Scrapyard. The farther up you got in the Scrapyard the less it smelled like rust or copper and the more it smelled like iron. Which in the Scrapyard might as well mean it smelled like dinner.

 

Max turned his attention back up. He wanted to finish his climb just so he knew what was like. And he only hand another hour and a half before group. He squinted trying to make out the figures up there. 

 

Isaac followed his gaze. “Yeah Johnny and Violet skipped dinner and went right to climbing. I think music must have been more frustrating than normal.”

 

Max heard Violet’s name before from the clockwork girl. Something in passing about wishing to leave early to make sure she ate. “Well her friend isn’t going to be happy about that.”

 

“Lisa? Vaguely off putting, clockwork world, head turns are odd angles?” Isaac asked.

 

Max hadn’t seen her turn her head at odd angles but everything else fit so he nodded.

 

Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know the two of them very well. But I think Violet not eating has been a problem before. In her world she ate sunlight. Like photosynthesis but there wasn’t any reason for it. Nonsense is skewed like that. Like I think she said she could eat other things but sunlight tasted the best or something. She doesn’t share a lot in therapy. Pretty sure she climbs to get closer to the sun, now more than ever before it sets.”

 

“Is that why you climb?” Max remembered how he seemed to have been reaching for the sunlight and how he never pulled his curtains closed.

 

Isaac shrugs. “I mean I do like sunlight although I prefer rain. Really I’m used to high altitudes. King C’s domain was the sky and the air was thin.”

 

Isaac didn’t continue. He didn’t need to. Max knew the feeling of the breathing air that wasn’t quite right. “I don’t think the air gets thinner at a hundred feet but nice effort.” Max said with a smile.

 

Isaac rolled his eyes but didn’t get angry. Guess he was getting used to Max on the whole then. “It never does but I never stop trying. I should get down. It takes me a while.”

 

Max saluted Isaac as he dropped to the branch Max had been on before. Then continued his climb upward.

 

Not long after the sun began setting Max found himself passing a girl with a brown braid going back down. He stopped and looked at her. “Violet?”

 

She turned a cool but questioning look at him. “What?”

 

“Don’t forget to eat, yeah? I don’t wanna know what Lisa would do if I didn’t tell you.” And with that Max kept going up. 

 

As he reached the last stretch he saw Johnny, leaning on the tree trunk, arms crossed, looking at the sky as it bled orange. Today had been unusually warm even with the lingering summer that persisted. Max had no idea how Johnny could be wearing a leather jacket again.

 

“Aren’t you roasting?” Max asked as he pulled himself into being eye level with Johnny’s shoes.

 

Johnny’s attention snapped to him like a dog guarding a house and then the tenseness washed away. “You’re fast.” He was very obviously surprised by the fact he just stated. “I saw ya talk ta Violet a little further down. Might give ‘er a run for ‘er money as the fastest climber.”

 

The compliment took Max by surprise and he almost slipped when he grabbed for a branch that wasn’t there before catching himself and pulling himself to meet Johnny's face. “Didn’t answer my question. How are you not sweating? It’s hot and you’re jacket can’t be comfortable.”

 

Johnny examined his jacket like he hadn’t been aware he was even wearing it and shrugged. “Forge and I worked in volcanoes. Ya get used to it.” 

 

Johnny’s hand went towards Max’s hat, obviously smug in the idea that Max couldn’t very well move out of the way when he stood on a tree branch and that his bat was tucked in is backpack. Thus it shocked him so much that he almost fell back when he saw Max step backwards and fall out of view. 

 

“Punk?” Johnny’s voice was practically a scream as he held onto the trunk and leaned over only to see Max perfectly fine on a branch a little further down. He didn’t look scared or angry or even annoyed. He looked amused back up at Johnny and stuck his tongue out.

 

Johnny was first hit with relief and then took the bait, climbing down clumsily as Max did precision jumps and lache swings from branch to branch, flipping all the while, like some game of advanced tag. Despite not being as skilled as Max in this Johnny found it just as fun. Max would sometimes just lounge in one spot in homage to the turtle and the hare. Whenever Johnny got close Max off he’d spring. It went on and got dark like that until finally Mac hit the ground in roll and waited for Johnny.

 

Johnny made it down not long after, not panting or sweating, in fact he looked even more invigorated. Max was impressed with his endurance if nothing else. This time when Johnny reached for his hat he ducked and just gave Johnny a look. 

 

“We should get going to therapy.” Max said as he walked back inside leaving Johnny to race after him.


	5. Sleeping over

Max sat next to Isaac again seeing as how it was empty despite him getting there only moments before therapy started. Whether his roommate saved the seat or people just liked sitting in the same spots he wasn’t sure.

 

Dr. Zarei seemed to echo herself from the day before. Max quickly learned she had this down to a science. Today those of High Nonsense worlds were asked to share. Max’s eyes flicked from Isabel to Ed to Violet to Johnny as other students spoke of their travels.

 

Violet shrugged off her turn to everyone’s dismay. It was obvious everyone liked her, she was an aloof sort of mature kind of girl people found cool, and it made everyone want to know more about her. Dr. Zarei just nodded and told everyone that healing can be done by listening and empathizing as well as sharing, though her words didn’t sound very therapist like since she spoke rather stiffly.

 

Isabel spoke about about her time in a land where reality was flexible and all that mattered were stories. She’s been a knight tasked with the job of keeping the only library safe from all the people who wanted to come in and destroy the books and in doing so destroy the actual events or in the case of fiction make the events real and change the world accordingly. There was only one copy of each book, except on the days there were one and a half. Her best friend had been the Keeper of Stories, Eightfold, who taught her how to know what is true and what is false and why none of it matters because fiction and fact are equals in stories. She had been killed when revolution struck and Isabel was forced out. Max didn’t know how she could say any of this without crying.

 

Ed didn’t talk of a world of creativity and arts that would shape the world around itself. One where the monsters were physical manifestations of self doubt, depression, creativity blocks, insecurities, and lack of motivation that you fought with your paintings or sculptures or words or music. Or how he learned from a man named Muse to paint like the only person worth pleasing was himself which creates confidence and helped him grow stronger in many ways. Or even how he spent years there but didn’t age. 

 

Instead Ed talked about the pride he had and how he wanted to share his creations with his family and this world and asked to go back if he were able to return. How Muse promised he would have his door again when he needed it. How when Ed returned to earth he’d been gone for 9 months and his parents went missing in his absence. How he was featured on every news network pleading that they come back after he gave up everything to return. Isabel wrapped an arm around him in a half hug as he cried.

 

Johnny wasn’t asked to speak and for the first time Max entertained the thought that he wasn’t from a Nonsense world. Come to think of it that made sense because if he had been nonsense wouldn’t he be roomed with Ed? He’d assumed so if only based on way his actions had no end goal but assumptions should be torched and their ashes swept out when it came to magical worlds and their tourists.

 

Therapy ended much the same as the day before but Isabel and Ed stayed in their seats. Ed didn’t seem to be crying anymore but Isabel kept rubbing his arm as he leaned into her hug. Max and Isaac waited for them by the door. Max might not know Ed very well since he’s new but he’d been adopted into this group and he might as well try to help his new friend out if he can. Ed stood up and Isabel was right with him and the four started walking to the rooms.

 

At one point halfway up the stairs Isaac ran ahead only to return when the other three reach the top. He’s carrying a sleeping bag and both his and max’s toothbrush. Isabel nodded to him and Max was just confused.

 

“We’re sleeping over?”  Max asked carefully. It was annoying no one asked him but he wasn’t going to argue with the decision. PJ would often set up for the night in the same spot as him. He wasn’t a stranger to sleepovers.

 

“Yeah?” Isaac said furrowing his brow wondering why it wasn’t obvious. 

 

_"Oh yeah, by the way Max, how would you like to sleep over tonight?"_ Max turned to face where he’d just been standing, mimicking a conversation. "Sure since you asked and didn’t just go grab my stuff in lieu of communication.”

 

Isaac’s eyes snapped over to Ed as fast as a lightning strike but the look of pain and worry disappeared instantly because Ed wasn’t shaking with tears anymore but laughter. 

 

Isaac’s shoulders untensed and he looked at Max. “Do you want to sleep over?”

 

Max rolled his eyes at the delayed invitation. “Sure.”

 

Isaac seemed a little peeved at the fact Max called him out on not giving him a choice and choosing the same thing anyway but he seemed to cool off by the time they reached the room. 

 

Inside all the walls were covered in canvas paintings all with the same illegible signature at the bottom with what looked to be Ed’s circular glasses replacing the B in his name. Despite the constant change in style from impressionistic monkey men to surrealistic landscapes it’s easy to see the similarity when taking into account the use of seemingly every color on the color wheel. Every last painting was made by Ed: from one of what looked to be a Pop Art still life of a soggy breakfast, to a photorealistic self portrait where his eyes weren’t visibly beyond the glare of his glasses.

 

An easel sits next to the window on what was probably Ed’s side if the desk with paints on it was any indicator. It was an odd idea that Isaac’s wall, filled with manga and anime, was shared with a wall of this kind of well respected art on the flipped side. The otherside was still covered in paintings but contained less personal items. A few books on a desk, an umbrella hanging off the chair, and a sleeping bag next to the bed.

 

As they entered Isabel, Ed and Isaac all moved to the less occupied side and started pulling the bed away from the wall. Max was done asking questions and just got out of their way. It wasn’t long before they moved to Ed’s bed and put it in the center with the other to make a super bed. As soon as they fixed the comforters they sat down and started relaxing.   
  


“Max don’t just stand there!” Isabel motioned him over as she undid her loose bun. 

 

“You guys do this a lot.” It was a statement, not a question. It was obvious to Max by how they moved everything in sync and in silence that this was not a new thing. He shucked off his backpack and pulled out his bat and sat on the floor.

 

Ed, who’s been fixing the pillows into one big pile, jumps off the bed and squats next to Max. “What are you doing down here? The party’s up there.” 

 

“Guess a party’s a party.” Max sighs and stands up and moves to the too soft bed where he seizes a corner and watches his friends interact.

 

Isaac was brushing Isabel’s hair. They were chatting about something that had happened in Isaac’s world at some point, Isabel asking various questions and Isaac answering them all. Ed flopped onto the bed next to Max, grinning like usual. If Max hadn’t seen him crying 10 minutes ago he would have thought he was okay.

 

“Your art is really good.” Max said, content with the stare down as much as Ed but feeling like he should be cheering him up somehow.

 

Ed shrugged in response. “I don’t really care. About your opinion on them that is. I care about my art a lot.”

 

It was a conversation killer whether Ed knew it or not. Maybe he’d done it on purpose to wiggle out of having to talk but it was more likely that Ed was just like this.

 

“You draw that warrior monkey a lot.” Max said as he pointed to a painting of a blue monkey like man with comically large ears and white hair, wearing a red happuri. There were several similar ones, some more abstract but still ultimately him.

 

Ed waves his hand dismissively. “That’s just Muse. I like playing with his proportions.”

 

Max tried once more. “Dr. Zarei said boys don’t go missing often because no one wants to leave us out of sight. So how’d you end up in your world?”

 

Ed laughed like that was particularly funny. “Well my parents were busy big shot scientists. Not to say they didn’t love or pay attention to me, of course they did, but they also didn’t really grasp the whole art kid thing. They gave up after I hit ten and just kinda chalked all my weird behavior to difference in hobbies. They let me be even when my teachers said I needed medication to focus. Tests were coming back negative so they refused. Have you _seen_ what some of that stuff does to kids who don’t need it? Anyway we went to a museum and they were looking at some fossils and I got bored and went to see what else was around. Nobody else even paid attention to the mosaic door or me when I went through it.”

 

It was at this point Isabel piped up. “You left out the part where you weren’t nearly as fun as you are now. Seriously he was like really quiet because he felt weird about his parents not getting him. He was doodling in the corners of his notes and not paying attention in class, praying the teachers wouldn’t call on him and would just leave conversations randomly. Now look at him! Our worlds truly bring out the best in all of us.”

 

“You two knew each other before you went to your own worlds?” Max asked not entirely sure if Isabel’s knowledge was from just asking questions when it sounded like those were her memories of him.

 

They both nodded but Isabel spoke. “We went to the same school and were in all the same classes but never really spoke. He almost never spoke at all. I just wanted to get all my work done before school ended. My grandpa is super hard to please so I didn’t like coming home with incomplete homework. What about you, Max? How’d you find a door?”

 

Max hesitated. His story was one he’d come to terms with a long time ago but it was still had a sad start. “My dad was never strict. That was kind of my mom’s job, keeping me and my sister in line and making sure we always had supervision from someone. But she died. My dad knew we were grieving and he was too even if he put on a brave face. So we all took up more responsibility. More chores, more work shifts, more family game nights. It was suffocating and I started coming home later and picking up more invitations from friends just to get my mind off it. One day I was taking my usual long route home past an empty lot but there was one of those 50s latch fridges there. The kind kids would be found dead in and got outlawed and replaced by magnet fridges instead. Being morbidly curious after experiencing death in my life for the first time I opened it. No kid. Also no fridge. I still remember telling myself not to go in because then I might be the dead kid.” 

 

It was quiet for a moment and Max rolled his eyes. “It’s been years. I’m all healed, don’t look so sad on my account. Like Isabel said, the worlds bring out the best in us.”

 

That seemed to be the magic phrase because they all smiled.

 

“Anyway what about Isaac, huh? He seems easy to keep track of so how’d anyone lose him?” Max wasn’t sure how much was curiosity and how much was just a need to change the topic.

 

Isaac shrugged. “I’m the oldest of 8. My parents decided early that I was responsible enough to not need nearly as much attention as the others. After all I could change a diaper and baby sit. It was like being an adult with none of the perks. I was sitting on a porch, trying to drown out the noise from inside. A storm started and my parents called everyone to the living room in case the power went out. I knew they wouldn’t notice if I weren’t there, I was acting rebellious they said and didn’t always listen and they had less experienced kids to worry about. So I just. Took off. I ran and ran into the familiar park a block away. It was empty of course. Lightning struck a tree but it didn’t burst into flames. Instead the lightning went up and down it. Electricity isn’t supposed to act like that on a tree. I got closer and saw the shape of a door. I was dumb and grabbed the handle when lightning struck me. Next thing I know I’m standing on clouds, sure it must be some kind of heaven.”

 

“You should share, Izzy. Yours is really cool too.” Ed said with his usual giant grin.

 

Isabel stood on the bed and suddenly it was _really_ storytime. “So there I was. 12 years old in my grandfather’s dojo, getting berated by the man himself for my subpar technique. I had come close to beating a woman twice my age but close doesn’t cut it. A loss is a loss and my grandfather belittled my efforts. As he supervised the next match I slinked out, thoroughly pissed and ready to play video games until I passed out. I went upstairs and found that there was a new bookshelf. I picked one up and found it didn’t make much sense, like it was an installment that expected me to have read its predecessors and put it back and looked for the first one but my eye kept being drawn to one red book with a spider emblem on the spine. I picked it up and the shelf moved like a secret door so of course I went in.” 

 

She took the hair brush out of Isaac’s hand slowly before lunging forward with it like a sword, surprising all of them. “And instantly I was attacked! Surrounded by armed guards pointing spears at me. Muscle memory kicks in and I took four of them down before I was properly restrained. Taking deep breaths I looked around and saw that I was in the entrance to a library. One of the guards, now sporting a bloodied lip looked me over and told them to release me, I was a foundling not a vandal she’d said. A strong one at that. ‘ _Let Eightfold get a good look at her. She could be useful as an assistant or even a knight._ ’”

 

Isabel took a step back, her posture growing stiffer as her movements grew slow and jerky yet somehow still graceful as she let the hair brush fall to the bed and she jumped back so quickly, landing perfectly in a squat on the headboard. “And then she came. A giant paper spider, like living origami, scuttling across the shelves towards us. They brought me closer and the spider lowered to the floor and peered into my eyes. ‘ _Oh yes she’s a tough one. If nothing else I want her as an assistant, like a last line of defense._ ’ Her voice was squeaked but it was also kind. And so they decked me out in robes, complex and intricate with a spider pattern as the backdrop for the open book embroidered on the back.”

 

She stands back on the bed and picks the hair brush back up, looking it over. “Soon it became obvious I had more actual training than anyone in this world. They relied heavily on weapons and numbers. I learned how to incorporate a dagger into my technique, then a sword, then a spear. I was ultimately the strongest person in this world. I became a knight in order to teach the others how to protect the library better. Of course I still hung around Eightfold, my first friend.”

 

Isabel dropped back onto the bed, she’d already shared the end of the story in therapy. All three boys clapped for her. She was a natural storyteller and Max could see her reading audiobooks with how well she manipulated her voice.

 

The rest of the evening was dedicated to complaining about classes. All three of them apparently took art as an elective and collectively hated it. Eventually they all passed out in a weird, uncomfortable pile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hated writing this chapter but i like how it turned out which is good bc it only took me 20 days


End file.
